Gods & Pizza
by Mixer
Summary: Response to TTH Challenge. Tara is the decendent of a Goa'uld Harcesis Child. As the genetic memories emerge she faces difficult choices.
1. Chapter 1

Title: Gods & Pizza

Author: Mixer

Rating: MA15+

Spoilers: End of Season Six Buffy, Anywhere up to end of Season Seven SG-1

Pairings: Now where's the fun in telling you that?

Summary: Response to a TTH Challenge, Tara is the descendent of a goa'uld harcesis child. As the genetic memories slowly come to the surface her life becomes more difficult.

* * *

"Kneel before your god"

A voice of uncompromising malevolence spoke to the collective shudders of a village, the men and women standing before her wreaked of terror. A stench that she found most satisfying as the brave and cowardly alike collapsed to their knees in repentance, mumbling, begging for her lenience, her forgiveness for their transgressions.

_Her dark, blood red lips curled in a malicious smile as she came to rest before a young woman. She trembled as she abased herself before a god, shaking so hard that her filthy black hair now concealed her face. No doubt her eyes turned down as she silently begged to be passed over, to not be chosen. The god had seen the young woman many times before, a beautiful girl that was flourishing into a magnificent woman. Her loss would be felt._

_Gently placing a tinted nail beneath the girls chin, she raised her face until glistening brown eyes peered through the matt of hair. She gently caressed the girl's cheek with the same hand as she brought her to stand. That malicious smile became deeply satisfied as she felt the dampness of tears, as she saw the fear burning through the girl's eyes, felt her delicate body trembling._

_Finally, as they all did, the girl's eyes hesitantly looked upwards to meet the gods own._

"_Beg our forgiveness."_

_The girl did exactly that. She had made no transgressions against the god, but reverent worship urged on by an all-consuming fear of her power made the words a sweet melody. A cacophony akin to a choir of angels_

_Her voice now boomed with the depths of her evil, her eyes glowed with a god's power as she said, "We do not forgive. We are Hathor" _

_Bright yellow and red lights mingled from her palm and the girl began to scream as agonies that spaned the aeons tore through her, the girl's voice pierced glass as the collective men and woman shrank back from the girls pain, from a god wrath. While all silently thanking the gods that they themselves were safe for a little longer._

_As the girl's lifeless corpse fell to the ground, her eyes staring blankly towards her kinfolk, the ribbons of energy fading away, the god took in the villagers with her still glowing eyes. "We do not forgive"_

The world flickered as the god pronounced herself Hathor, but it was no longer the Egyptian mother goddess standing before the petrified crowd, it was Tara. And as the scene replayed it was Tara that raised her hand, that felt a blissful satisfaction as the device wrapped about her palm glowed and rippled. And it was no longer a nameless stranger begging for her life. The yellow and reddish lights intensified as they twisted into the woman and stole her life in one agonised moment, her vibrant red hair splaying across her face as she collapsed into the sweet embrace of death.

Tara screamed as she jerked awake wrenching the blankets from her sleeping lover to wrap around herself, a safety net, an attempt to shut out the cold that suffused her, made her tremble so. She was whimpering as she rocked back and forth, desperate to escape the cold numbness that swelled inside of her. She was so horrified that she had not felt horror, but pleasure in the girl's death.

She was so consumed by the nightmare that she barely felt Willows arms around her, barely heard the whispered murmurs that it was all right, it was just a dream. But on some level Tara knew it wasn't just a dream. Dreams blurred and faded in time, they could be forgotten, no matter how horrific, but she knew this one wouldn't fade. Like the others it was going to ingrain itself in her memories with a crystal like clarity if she tried to recall it.

Every scent, every sight, every word spoken or movement made would be locked in her mind forever. Every emotion felt. Tara continued to tremble as a dampness spread down her cheeks while her knuckles turned a deathly white in their grip on the sheets, continuing to jerk them to and fro with her.

"Shh baby, it's ok, everything will be alright" Willow continued to murmur into her ear, like a kind of back ground noise it slowly began to soothe her as Willow held her tight, gently pushing Tara's hair out of her face. "Everything will be alright," she repeated as she kissed away Tara's tears and held her close. "Everything will be alright"

But she knew it wouldn't, there was something dark inside of her trying to claw its way free, and she knew the dreams were just the first symptom…

* * *

"It was the same dream, wasn't it?" Willow asked

Still ashamed by how she had felt in the dream, by what she had done, Tara avoided meeting Willow's eyes and focused on the churning of her cereal. The thunderous roar of a brewing storm, and the heavy battering of rain outside seemed to echo the turmoil within, and for a brief moment she wondered if somehow her powers had leaked out. The dreams had been taking such an emotional toll on her that her witchy control was significantly weakened.

Tara almost smiled at the thought for being so ridiculous, she wasn't nearly powerful enough to cause a storm just because she was in a bad mood and her control was somewhat…frazzled. Willow might have been, but she sure wasn't. But the thought of Willow quickly turned to seeing her dead by Tara's hand, which soured her thoughts once more.

"Tara?"

"It-it wasn't the same one," she finally stammered

"But it was like the other ones?" Tara just nodded "Baby, I know we said that it was just a nightmare…but you had that other dream so many times, and now it's starting to change? I mean you were worse last night then I've seen you before, and now, now you won't even look at me" she declared

Guiltily Tara did just that, meeting Willows warm browns eyes that were brimming with concern as she carefully tucked a strand of loose hair back behind her ear. "We _are_ on a hell mouth here Tara, maybe we should tell Giles?"

_How could she possibly tell Giles what she had dreamt?_ She was too horrified to ever want to voice those dreams aloud.

Tara was in the process of viciously shaking her head when Dawn waltzed into the room, never before had she been so happy for a distraction. "Tell Giles what?" she inquired curiously

"Oh, ah, J-just about a new s-spell Willow found D-dawnie" she cursed herself for stammering so badly, it only happened when she was nervous or scared, and right then she was a little bit of both. Quickly standing up and almost knocking over her stool she watched Willow's eyes flick between her and Dawn before unceremoniously ignoring the younger girl.

Tara could almost see Willow's mind ticking away, "They mean more then you've been telling me don't they?" and there was a touch of pain in her voice. She was hurt that Tara didn't trust her more.

"Pl-please Willow" half asking for forgiveness, half asking her to stop

"What do they mean Tara? What are they doing to you?" She was pleading with Tara now.

"Th-they're just ba-bad dreams" she almost yelled before running. Literally running out the door in her silky pyjamas and bare feet. The pouring rain instantly saturated her as she threw herself into it, the cold pavement numbing her feet as lightning streaked the sky above her. The storm picked up its tempo as she ran, her hair now clinging to her face and eyes as she fled, thunderous roars above her, the pounding of the rain welcome stings against her flesh as she continued to run, blindly, instinctively, just running.

* * *

Slumping against a tombstone Tara slid into the wet grass and cried as the rain continued to pound down around her. The cold seeped into her bones as she sat huddled up, slick beads of water trailing across her body, as she reminisced over her father.

"_You have evil inside of you"_ he had once said when he had tried to collect her, tried to take her home. She'd denied it, tried to hide from it with magic, and for a short time she had even deluded herself into believing that she wasn't evil, that it wasn't inside of her.

But now? All her denials were coming crashing down. Maybe the magic wasn't a symptom of something darker…but the dreams were. Her mother had told her so.

"_In time our curse will be yours" _her mother had once said sorrowfully _"You'll begin to see things in dreams and in waking, see things that should be so terrible, feel things so unimaginable, but you will enjoy them, and they will begin to change you". _Her mother's bright blue eyes had been filled with such pain and anguish when she spoke, but Tara had only been a little girl at the time. Even with her strict upbringing to heed her elders a child's mind would always wonder.

"Oh my little girl, how I pray you will be spared. But I know in my heart you will face the same evil I do, hold tight to your world little one, I couldn't bare to see you fall…"

And she didn't have to Tara fall…she died not long after they had had that conversation.

The women of the Maclay family knew exactly three ways to deal with the evil inside of them, die, fight, or give in. The souls of her family were pure and almost always innocent, oblivious to the darkness that suffused the world around them, and inevitably most chose to fight their own evil. Fighting it led to early deaths or insanity as the walls of their mind crumbled. Tara had already tasted insanity, trapped in her own mind, the world no longer making sense as she unwittingly betrayed poor Dawn to a hell god, as she so desperately tried to reach out to her beloved Willow. Insanity was but one road in many, and not one she wished to traverse again.

Nor did she wish to die.

And as for giving in? Unlike most of her family, she **did** know what went bump in the night; she was more familiar with the darkness in the world and what it could do. She had no desire to give in to evil.

But…maybe there's another way…she thought, her mom had told her the dreams were just the first sign that the dark inside of them was manifesting. The Maclay men had always claimed they could control that evil, maybe it wasn't just a family legend to control the women…the thought of returning to her father made her sick to her stomach, and she had no doubt after their last confrontation he would be just as happy to see her as she was to see him.

But now she needed him, leaving Sunnydale, leaving Willow would tear her up inside. She vaguely wondered whether she could survive loosing Willow, without her life simply had less meaning. The light was duller, the grass paler, the water tasteless, it would be like loosing everything important at once. Without Willow she would be empty, consumed by that terrible, aching void that was the absence of love…of someone so special she made the world go round. And without Willow Tara would be nothing again, she would be the old water pooled in a tire, so much less then mediocre…

But could you live with yourself if you hurt her? Some part of Tara questioned. You took away her pain once, could you survive inflicting it?

Leaving would hurt her as well…but maybe, just maybe they could both survive that pain. Tara knew she couldn't survive if she killed her Willow Tree…her mom had killed someone when the evil emerged, when it overrode her mind and will and crumbled her mentality, driving her to insanity. No. Tara could survive hurting Willow, even breaking her heart. But when Willow died, so would she.

With her resolve set the tears began to slow, though no one watching her would have been able to tell, drenched as she was by the battering rains. Carefully Tara forced her stiff and cold legs to make her stand as the bitter winds stung her eyes and she felt how cold her skin had become. Surveying the graveyard around her, it was almost amusing that she had retreated into a place of death to escape evil, but the dead were lovely conversationalists, and so considerate in not disturbing a grieving young witch.

Determination firm in her eyes Tara slowly set out to break a heart, abandon a life and to finally go home.


	2. Its in Egyptian

"Its in Egyptian! It's in **_Egyptian_**!" came the hysterical shrieks

"Willow, Willow!" Buffy grabbed the frantically moving red head in an effort to hold her still "Willow! Calm down, what's wrong?"

The silky red hair whipped across the girls face as she turned to look at her friend. "Buffy" she said, as if noticing her for the first time, despite the fact that she was the one holding her immobilised. Buffy winced at the fact that Willow would probably be bruised from her death grip later, but it had been the only way to try and calm the hysterics short of slapping her.

"Take a breath Will, now tell me what's going on"

Despite her body having stopped moving there was still a frantic look in Willow's eyes as she looked at Buffy. "She's gone"

"Who's gone?"

"Tara" she whispered as she collapsed into the arms of her best friend. Buffy gently lowered the two of them to the floor of the Magic Box as Willow locked her arms around her friend as if she were her last lifeline. Her chest heaving up and down as she sobbed against Buffy's shoulder.

Ignoring the glances of more then a few curious Magic Box shoppers Buffy focused on her friend while Giles and Anya quietly began to clear the Magic Box of its customers. The Anya and quietly part was amazing on its own, she didn't voice a single of her typical comments on the business being driven away and her 'economic' loses.

"Tell me what happened" the slayer said softly.

"T-tara was upset this morning an-and she ran out of the house" at first Willow spoke hesitantly, but in moments the words were spilling out in a semi-coherent fashion "She ran out into the storm in her pyjamas and when she didn't come back Dawn and I went looking for her, we looked everywhere Buffy and we couldn't find her"

"Shh, its ok Willow, I'm sure she'll be back" While Sunnydale could be a dangerous place Buffy personally believed that all of hell couldn't keep Tara and Willow apart when they put their minds to it.

"No, no!" Willow ranted, "Sh-she won't, when I couldn't find her I went home and there was a note. And, and she's gone Buffy!" she was becoming hysterical again and sobbing even harder, clutching at Buffy almost violently hard.

While she was crying to her best friend, Giles gently extricated the crumpled paper from Willow's hand that he assumed was the ominous 'note' Tara had left. "Good Lord," he exclaimed in a very English way "It's in Egyptian!"

"Since when does Tara write in Egyptian" Anya's curious voice perked up.

"She doesn't!" Willow almost screamed, violently jerking away from Buffy "She doesn't know Egyptian, she can't speak it or read it or anything it!"

"But you're sure it's from her?" Giles asked carefully

"Yesss!" They didn't ask how Willow could suddenly read Egyptian herself; magic could be a most useful thing to those who could adequately explore its intricacies. Nor did they ask how she was so sure it was from Tara if Tara couldn't write Egyptian.

"I know your upset at the moment Willow, but what exactly does the note say?" It was amazing how cautious everyone could be around a powerful witch in extreme emotional turmoil. Acting for all intensive purposes like she hadn't heard Giles, Willow returned to sobbing into Buffy's shoulder for a moment before giving a frustrated shake of her hand.

The result was spectacular to say the least; the words of the note glowed with an intense white light that radiated through out the room in a blinding fashion as the words then tore themselves from the page and became rearranged in mid air. Still in Egyptian the glowing words of the letter hung suspended in mid air as they began to shift from a bright white to a green as a final explosive splash of energy laced the room and an English translation now hung suspended in mid-air. All the while Willow continued to cry her heart out.

_Please don't be mad Willow, but I have to leave, and if we're lucky we'll never see each other again. I know I'm hurting you, but maybe this way we'll be better off. I love you so much, but please don't try to find me. I'd die if anything ever happened to you. Remember be brave like an Amazon. Live your life and please try to forget me. I'll love you forever._

After a moment Giles frowned at the unnecessary display of magic, but held back from saying anything, after all even the most oblivious person could see there was more to the letter, and that some things were just too personal to let others see. Not to mention he had no desire to further upset the already distraught girl.

"I-I can't find her" Willow confessed through her tears "She's hidden from me" and with that the last traces of her composure vanished and she shattered into an anguish which tore at everyone else in the room.

* * *

"She's sleeping" Giles announced as he returned from the back room to meet the eagerly awaiting congregation of scoobies.

"Did she say anything else?" Xander asked before anyone else could say anything.

"No" Giles muttered as he unconsciously began to clean his glasses of non-existent dust. His eyes rested on the place where Willow had magically projected Tara's letter, the letter itself had faded. But the fact that Willow had resorted to magic so quickly and so casually with the loss of Tara concerned him. She was still recovering from her addiction to the magics, and her tentatively reformed relationship with Tara had seemed to be her salvation. Something more important to her then quick fixes of magic, what concerned him even more was that Tara had known that. She also must have known what her sudden departure might do to Willow, and Giles was afraid for what that might mean, both for Tara's motivations in leaving so abruptly…and for what might become of Willow…

His Ripper days had taught him the allure of darkness through magic, how it could corrupt the purest of souls. Sighing remorsefully he was quite aware that he must look fairly awful himself as he replaced his glasses, dealing with a witch in emotional turmoil was a…difficult…task to say the least.

"What are we going to do?" Xander asked, breaking the tenuous silence.

"I don't know" Giles admitted.

"Dawn, Willow said you helped her look for Tara this morning, that she ran out and was quite upset" the watcher quizzed while hopeful eyes turned to the young brunette.

Almost nodding to herself Dawn visibly composed herself before speaking "I'm not really sure what happened, I think Tara said something about bad dreams but I really didn't hear much. And Willow was all-frantic as soon as Tara left…Oh wait, Willow said something about maybe they should tell Giles. But Tara _really _didn't want to" and she stressed the word really "I guess she was talking about the dreams"

"There's got to be more to it then that" Buffy exclaimed, "Tara ran off because of bad dreams?" a scornful tone in her voice.

"Hey, I'm just saying what I heard" Dawn defended herself

"Maybe they were really bad dreams?" Anya suggested in her usual nonchalant way as she busied herself with inventory "Personally I don't see what all the fuss is about, she's gone. Willow will get over it"

The scoobies just looked at her "Ah, Anya this might be one of those quaint little human things. But she was like Willow's everything, I think that will be a little harder to get over then…"

Anya cut Xander off "Then cold feet?" but she didn't pursue that line of thought to everyone's relief

"Fine, fine, just make fun of poor little Anya because she doesn't get all the quirks of being human" the vengeance demon muttered "Of course if Willow needs closure I suppose I could give her a little vengeance, I prefer women scorned by men of course, but a woman scorned is a woman scorned"

"Ah, maybe we could hold off on the wishes until later" Dawn suggested nervously "They don't always work out well". Anya just gave her a blank look

"Yes!" Buffy perked up "Wishes. Vengeance. Later. Besides Tara's our friend, if she ran off and hurt Willow like this, there must have been a good reason…" Buffy fervently hoped there was a good reason; Willow might be completely broken up at the moment…but later? Even if she regretted it a simple sentence starting with 'I wish' could set a whole bunch of bad stuff in motion. And after everything that had happened when Oz had taken off, Buffy knew Will could fall pray to painful lapses in judgement when she was hurting.

"So does anyone have any ideas why she left…aside from bad dreams…?" Buffy asked only to a collective shake of heads.

"What about the whole writing in Egyptian thing?" Again there was a collective shake of heads. So all they knew was that Tara loved Willow, but she had left her, only leaving a note. They knew Tara was having some kind of bad dreams which might be connected to why she left, but they wouldn't be able to find out anything more about those until Willow woke up. And right at that moment the healing peace of sleep was what she needed, so Buffy hoped she would stay that way for a while. They also knew that Tara was suddenly writing Egyptian, and according to Willow she didn't know Egyptian. Which was odd…but certainly not the strangest thing to happen on the hell mouth.

"Well, any ideas were Tara might have gone…?" It was a pretty pointless question, even after two years only Willow knew a lot about Tara. She was just so private and reserved most of the time, Buffy knew she had a family, having met some of them once but she couldn't believe Tara would willingly go to them after their last meeting, not that any of them actually knew where her family came from either…

Sighing Buffy admitted defeat and told everyone they should go home, for the time being there was really nothing they could do. Although Giles made some vague mention to a few books he might have a look at that could be of some relevance.

* * *

Almost as if the storm were following her, Tara emerged from the yellow and white taxi to be emersed in the bitter rains and deafened as the dark swirling clouds smashed against one another. She let out a deep sigh as she slowly began the walk along an old dirt path to her families house. Retracing the familiar route she gave no thought to the small magics that spilled from her skin so she could tread the thickening mud like it were concrete.

Unconsciously she allowed the rains to continue to batter at her, the winds to tear at her clothing as if they wished to strip her bare. Had she been anywhere else in the world she would have let that thought carry her to more pleasant times when she and Willow had danced sky clad beneath a bright full moon that had filled half the sky to celebrate the winter solstice.

But she was not anywhere else; she was in a place that had bred fear and obedience into her as a child, those memories surged within her to ignite a shiver across her spine as the prospect of her future spread out before her. No longer a glorious or wonderful thing she could only see pain and suffering, a dismal fate, but one she chose. Nothing her father or brother could do to her would be worse then what she would do to herself if her actions brought Willow any further pain. The image of her lying dead by Tara's hand would forever be burned into her mind, forever at the forefront of her thoughts.

Gently treading upon firm ground once more she realised she had become sheltered from the elements, standing before the front door on a gloomy porch which shadows carelessly splayed about she resisted the urge to run. Her sodden clothes gripping tightly to her body, Tara peered through the matt of wet hair which was strung across her face and summoned the will to knock.

For a moment she thought the storm had obscured her, that maybe fate was telling her to leave, but soon she heard the soft patter of steps as someone walked across old creaking floorboards. And slowly the door swung upon to reveal the surprised expression of her Cousin Beth. Simply dressed in loose clothing which hid most of her form, her dry hair bounced in surprise as her jaw dropped to reveal her shock.

"Tara" she announced, her voice expressing the depths of her surprise as she instinctively reached out. Taking a hold of a cold, wet arm an almost motherly expression swept across her face. "Your freezing" and she was, the rains had soaked through her skin to meet another form of cold that had wrapped its icy coils deep inside of her and was reaching towards the surface. Prior transgressions were forgotten as Cousin Beth drew her into the house, exclaiming over the state she was in.

"Really, how are you suppose to take care of your father and Donny if you can't take care of yourself?" The question wasn't directed at anyone, just a statement that Beth muttered as she guided Tara deeper into the house. The dry old boards creaking beneath her, and the shadows almost reaching out to embrace her. Tara shivered as the gloomy surroundings settled over her, Cousin Beth mistook her shiver as a symptom of the weather. "Oh, your so cold!"

Tara was guided like a zombie until she was deep within the dwelling and promptly placed before the houses fireplace. The flickering flames cast new, friendlier shadows across the room, while the element of purity and cleansing welcomed her home. The heat of the fire bathed her in its radiance, chasing away that external chill and even making its presence known on that iciness that lurked within her. Strangely the fire reassured her, she could smell the faintest traces of jasmine and sandalwood from her mother's presence years before. As if her mother had marked the room as a sanctuary for her. Tara barely noticed the warm blanket spread across her shoulders as Cousin Beth wrapped her like a child and made sure she was securely seated on the luxurious rug so that she would get the greatest benefit from the fire.

It was amazing what a little warmth could do for the spirit. Beth sat across from Tara and took up a needle and what looked like one of Donny's shirts, Tara assumed it was what she had been doing before she has suddenly shown up on the doorstep. Trying to speak she stammered so badly from the cold that Beth just "Shhh'd" her and said she should drink her hot tea and focus on getting warm, her father should be home any minute.

Tara was numb to the prospect of seeing her father, she needed him, but returning to a way of life she had once fled from? It could break her trying to adjust after the freedom she had known, to be subject to the will of any Maclay man, to cook, and clean, to stop using any magics. But it was for _Willow…_And that thought gave her strength, as did that lingering scent of her mother that permeated the room.

"Tara"

Closing her eyes and breathing deeply she turned to face the man who had quietly approached the room, cautiously staying at the fringes of it.

"Hello Dad…sir"


	3. A Vicious Homecoming

A/N: Family Violence coming up. Now impression that people don't like Tara's family? I agree, hate them, but they are necessary to my story for the moment. So please bare with me, and is it so hard to review?

More then a hundred and forty hits on my story last I checked and only a single review. Sheesh.

* * *

Donny's voice cut across the silence that had fallen between Tara and Mr Maclay "If it isn't my little sister. The world get too rough for a girl to handle without her _family_?" he said snidely.

Tara didn't give him the satisfaction of a reply, because in a small way he was right. Part of the world was too much for her to deal with on her own; though she thought without her 'family' was a bit strong, without her biological kin at any rate. She didn't notice at the time but the moment her father had spoken the wind and rain had broken, a temporary respite on the verge of shattering. But for the moment a tenuous check was kept on the elements as she and her father held one another's gaze.

Shadows shifted across the room in the flickering lights of the fire and a dull chill began to creep into her bones, a shudder chased its way down her spine as she continued to stare down her father. Eventually, with an almost inaudible sigh Tara let her eyes drift down, downcast as her stance become timid, demure. She radiated the proper attitude for an obedient daughter to her father and from across the room she could feel her dad's satisfaction.

"It was only a matter of time until you came home," he said, as if it had been a fact he had taken for granted. She supposed he was right, after all he had kept her leashed to him for most of her life, and now his knowledge bound her to him even more tightly. The fact that she needed him if she were to survive almost made death a more attractive option.

"I'm not a cruel man Tara, you're my daughter and I love you, but every woman needs to know her place" he stated "Especially you. You have demon inside, and that makes you dangerous, especially to people like that other witch" contempt in his voice as he said witch "who will never accept just how dangerous you are".

Tara couldn't help but have a certain level of tension spring through her body as he mentioned Willow, a fleeting image of her lifeless body springing to mind. Sighing he continued "No doubt she's the reason you've come home, but don't worry the right decision for the wrong reasons is still the right decision" he declared "And soon you'll come to realise that you are better off with your family"

Again her fathers own words came to her unbidden _"We are her bloodkin, who the hell are you?"_

"_We're family" _Friends were the family you chose for yourself, your parents and brothers and sisters were just blood relatives. Her friends back in Sunnydale were her family, Willow was her family, and she felt a physically pain at having separated herself from them…_but its necessary_, she reminded herself. It was for their own good.

"Will your learn you place Tara, do as we say, accept our discipline? Stop practicing that _filth_!" he demanded.

She could only nod in response. "Tara!" he exclaimed, a loose grip on his temper when it came to dealing with insolent youths.

The words escaped her; half unconsciously as years of so called 'training' begin to bubble to the surface "Yes Sir"

Glancing up she saw the smug expression settle on his face "Good. Now your brother has a promise to fulfil, we'll talk again later" And with that he retreated from the room, a small expression of distaste crossing his face while Tara looked at him questioningly.

_What promise?_ She thought

"If it wasn't for Cousin Beth, Dad and I would have had to have done for ourselves!"

Turning to face Donny she saw stars as a fist connected with her face, colours danced across her vision as the force of the blow spun her around. She was stunned as she collapsed to her knees and looked up at her brother through a haze of watering eyes, she saw the second blow coming and felt a sharp pain cut her mouth, blood spilling from a split lip to spray across the carpet.

"You're the woman! You should have been here to cook and clean, you made life hard for your cousin havin' to look after us and her own da" he ranted

She almost bit clean through her tongue as the force of his second punch rocked her head back and made her jaw snap shut. "Now I swore by god that if you didn't get in that car, I would beat you down" he fumed as the memory swam through Tara's mind. It was strange how memories could do that, pop up when they were totally irrelevant. She wondered if maybe the first punch had caused brain damage for such inane thoughts to seem so important.

"Don-" he kicked her, the impact reverberating through her body as she heard the audible sound of a rib splintering, shards of bone punching into other parts of her body. Gasping she curled into a ball and cried, she thought she was stronger then that. That two years on a hell mouth, two years with Willow had made her stronger…but she had never expected her own brother to physically beat her. Coupled with the prospect of facing the icy depths of evil that were brewing inside of her and leaving Willow, the emotional and physical stress had taken its toll and once again the tears were pouring out of her.

Spittle trailed from his mouth as he continued to rage at Tara "**_Now _**I swear that if you ever cross me or dad again, if you ever even think of leavin' again I will beat you into such a state that nothin' will ever fix you. You got that?"

"Yesss" she hissed.

He gave her another vicious kick that was mostly absorbed by her legs, but it still made her whimper as it shocked her broken body.

"Yes What?"

"Yes, sir" A malicious smile set upon his face as he stalked off.

Meanwhile three states away in Sunnydale California Willow screamed as a phantom blow threw her from her seat, in the middle of her room at the Summers house she felt a second blow smash against her face and she let out an earth-shattering scream. Not from the pain, but from the source.

The agony rippling through her wasn't hers, and she knew it. Somehow a part of her had reached out to her lover and was now reaping the rewards.

She screamed again, oblivious to Buffy now crouched beside her as she smacked her head into the floor. Blood trickled down her scalp as the phantom blows ricocheted through her chest and the phantom agony brutalised her senses. And then as suddenly as it had come it passed, a faint echo of Tara's pain ground through her. But nothing like what Tara must have been feeling as the attack occurred.

"Baby…" she managed to whisper, weakly reaching towards her despite the distance that physically separated them, one arm stretched forward as darkness edged across her vision and she lapsed into a dreamless unconscious.

Oblivious to the echoes that had assaulted Willow Tara gently lowered herself into a steaming bath, the hot water washing over her body with a rush of tingles as the heat of the water and coolness of her flesh waged a momentary war. The heat won. Spreading across her aching ribs she could feel the tendons relaxing as her skin stretched in the warmth, taking it into herself.

Very carefully she let herself slide deeper until only her nose tasted the air, the water washing away the grime as it gently lapped at her body. She could still taste the blood on her lips and didn't relish seeing the rapidly forming bruises that spread across her chest and face.

She hadn't expected to be greeted with open arms, but neither had she expected outright violence, her brother had been angry when she was younger…but never vicious. Momentarily she wondered if it wasn't the men in her family that had the evil inside of them…but no, she could feel something stirring inside of her.

Tara hadn't realised when Donny first hit her, but something deep inside of her had rebelled against the physical assault. Had wanted to fight back, no fight wasn't exactly the word…something inside of her had wanted to hurt her brother back. An eye for an eye. And now she was thinking about it, she found the idea strangely appealing which horrified her almost as much as seeing Willow die.

She was not a violent person, nor one that easily succumbed to the idea of vengeance. Yes she would fight to defend herself and those that she loved if she had to…but cold blooded vengeance? She shuddered at the thought of it…

_But wouldn't it be nice to make him hurt? _Some part of her thought. _Wouldn't it feel so good to indulge in a little blood letting of your own? He made you bleed and after all you do have the power…shouldn't you use it?_

_No!_ She thought back. _That's not who I am and it never will be!_

_No? You left Sunnydale, you left the greatest love you'll ever know to come back to these people, to protect other people from your so called evil. You made a great sacrifice, and the only reward you get is pain, you know this was only the beginning; if you stay here he'll beat you again. And your father already let him do it once; do you really think he'll stop him the next time?_

_I won't hurt anyone. _She thought stubbornly.

_Not anyone…only yourself…_

Tara jerked awake as she breathed in the steaming water, coughing and sputtering as she forced herself to sit up despite the pain that shot through her. Grimacing, she clutched her screaming ribs and gritted her teeth. The beating she couldn't have avoided, but falling asleep in the tub? That was just plain stupid.

Hauling herself out of the water she cautiously stepped out onto a soft mat as the water trickled off her skin, the cooling water tickling her skin as it fell.

"Cover yourself girl"

The voice surprised her and she jerked again as she turned, straining her throbbing ribs further as she hastily took a white cotton robe and thrust it over herself. "Dad, I mean Sir, wh-what are you do-doing in here?" she stuttered. The bruise across her jaw must have been quite impressive as she found it remarkably painful to talk, and even her father looked slightly ashamed of it.

She hadn't even heard him come in.

"I told you we'd talk later. First I'm not proud of letting your brother beat you, but a man is only as good as his word and he swore on god what would happen if you didn't leave Sunnydale with us"

"It pained me to let him do it Tara, but he gave his word and you needed to begin to learn your place again, after all you've been away from your family for two years now and you have a lot to make up for. You've been using, magic" revolution tinging his voice "and meddling with other women. That's simply not right for honest god-fearing folk."

"But, you didn't try to use any of that filth to hurt your brother which means its not too late to fix you" like she was something broken "to mend your ways, and teach you your proper place"

Sighing regretfully Mr Maclay's eyes flicked down to Tara's cheek before meeting her eyes again. "Now how bad are the dreams, how often are they coming?" he asked

Tara could have almost smiled with relief, he knew exactly why she had come home. "I-I've been having them for about t-two months now" she said

"Of a woman?" he inquired "With glowing eyes and red hair" she just nodded "Have you dreamt of killing anyone yourself?" the question took her by surprise and she couldn't respond. But her silence spoke volumes.

"You've come home in time then" it almost sounded like he sighed with relief at that. "You know the dreams are just the first…symptom…" he said "Soon other things will start happening".

She bit back asking 'like what', not that biting back her question was terribly difficult as her tongue was a little swollen from when she had bitten it under Donny's assault.

"You'll begin to read and speak gibberish and after that, the dreams will get worse," he answered her unspoken question "they'll come more often and you'll start to see things while your awake too. You'll see terrible things and they will take a toll Tara, after that you'll begin to think terrible things. React without thinking. It will be frightening but like I said, we are your family, we will love and support you and help you to control this evil as best as we can"

"How?" she asked, the question just popping out of her mouth before she could stop it

Something flashed through his eyes as he spoke next, she wasn't sure whether it was that something or the way his eyes flicked to the side but she knew that he was lying. "I'm afraid I can't tell you that, it would…jeopardise mine and Donny's effort if you knew exactly what we were going to do"

She knew with absolute certainty that he was lying. He knew what was going to happen to her because he had seen it happen to her mother…but he didn't know how to stop it, or how to control it. Spike had been right; it was just a family legend to the keep the women inline…but even with complete confidence in knowing that, it didn't change anything for her.

Tara knew that she would become dangerous sooner or later, that the evil inside of her would well up and pour out and she that meant she could never go back to Willow…she also had nowhere else to go. Which left her right where she was, trapped back in the Maclay home, fervently hoping that she wouldn't hurt anyone, that she would be strong enough to keep herself from hurting anyone.

"You should go to bed now, tomorrow will be a long day" Tara just nodded and slowly made her way back to her old room.


	4. One Long Week

A/N: Just a warning, very mature content. Implied Rape, Incest. Like I said no one likes Tara's family, but they are necessary to my story at the moment. The crossover will be coming up in a few chapters.

* * *

Tara lasted one long, painful week in the Maclay house before it became too much for her, she had thought that at least there she was isolated from the people she really cared about. That she would be able to endure life in the hands of her father and brother if it kept Willow safe from her, but that first night in the house her dreams intensified, became more vivid, more real as if they weren't dreams but something she had lived…And being 'home' again was accelerating the growth of darkness inside of her, in an almost unthinkable way she feared that having cut herself off from the light in her life, from someone so vital to existence a part of her will had been lost as well.

A part that fought the evil inside of her, in a sick way it made sense to her unconscious mind. People fought evil because it was the right thing to do, but more then that, they did it to protect the people they loved. And without that fervent devotion to protecting those around her a little more of her was being consumed by that icy darkness.

That first night Tara dreamt of the red headed women again, the one with the deep voice and glowing eyes, _Hathor…_

_Like Tara had done, the goddess bathed in a pool of scalding water, water that would have no doubt blistered her skin only left the lightest tinge on Hathor. Dozens of men moved around the bathing goddess, some carrying grapes and other food in intricate gold and silver wrought bowls while others fanned the goddess, more from a sense of ritual then in any attempt to cool her. _

_As she dreamt Tara saw that Hathor was in the centre of a large temple, enormous pillars inscribed with ancient forms of hieroglyphics surrounded her while a yellowish gold light bathed the room. But where most of the room looked to be from a scene out of ancient Egypt a number of Hathor's servants held strange metallic staffs with bulb like ends._

_And as she slipped further into her unconscious names, descriptions and ideas began to filter through the dream, she knew those staffs were some kind of advanced energy weapons and that the bulbs at the end could open and be fired from. _

_She knew that those large, impossibly strong men were called Jaffa and were in the service to Hathor, that the black tattoo like brand in the centre of their foreheads marked them as belonging to her. She also knew that all of those men had a strange sort of bisecting cross on their stomachs, the mark of a pouch in which some kind of larvae lived._

_What happened next was strange even by Tara's standards as the dream rippled and left Tara standing beside the tub in which Hathor lay, but now that she was closer she saw that the goddess was not bathing. The water bubbled and hundreds of small creatures swam over the goddess and through the water, screeching through clawed mouths and navigating by blackened eyes. It was a horrific sight as the monstrous little critters emanated a sense of pure…evil…_

_At the same time the goddess radiated a maternal pride for the creatures, gently stroking one of the albino snakes as it rubbed against her. The dream dissolved from anything coherent after that, just flickers of random images and sounds, too fast and too many for her mind to even begin to comprehend as they rushed through her._

Tara started awake, jerking into a sitting position and gasping as she pulled on her ribs. Gritting her teeth she climbed from the soft refuge of her bed and wobbled across the cold floor until she stood before a full body mirror.

She honestly wasn't sure whether to be horrified or amazed as she carefully turned and pulled at her robes. The bruises along her face were a deep shade of purple and black, with the faintest traces of a dark green which spread up he jaw and cheek, a good third of her face and neck were obscured behind the bruising. Her lip was still slightly swollen from when it had split and she thought it might even scar if she didn't try to 'encourage' the healing process.

As for the damage to her torso…she had to remove her cotton robe completely to see the full extent, the bruising was darkest at her ribs and they sent a shooting pain through her every time she moved. The bruises also extended across her chest and around her back.

They all hurt considerably, but she knew she would survive and so slowly endured the process of dressing. Loose clothes only, anything restricting would have been a further agony she truly did not need.

Making her way downstairs she found her Cousin Beth busily moving about the kitchen with a happy smile spread across her face as she sizzled bacon and cracked eggs.

"Good morning sleepyhead" she said quite pleasantly, only frowning slightly at the bruises on Tara's face. "Would you mind juicing the oranges?" she asked, "You know how your father likes his fresh orange juice."

Tara tried to reciprocate with a pleasant smile, but it was beyond her as her jaw felt inflamed when she tried. So she settled for what she hoped was a pleasant nod.

By the time her father and Donny had woken up and made there way down to the kitchen a complete breakfast had been served up which they devoured in silence. Carefully setting down his knife and fork Mr Maclay looked towards his daughter "After you've cleaned up I'd like to talk with you" he said "And Beth, I'll see you in the other room now"

Nothing else was said as Tara busied herself with the dishes, wincing with every movement. Donny didn't help matters by 'accidentally' pushing her as he made his way outside, she cried out in a brief moment of pain before stifling it and going about her work. Even after a two year absence she knew what would be expected of her by memory, it was almost built into her muscles after having done it all for so long.

First she washed, dried and put away the dishes, what should been a short task took her nearly an hour as she winced with pain almost every time she moved. After that she milked the cows, again what should have taken her a relatively short time was drawn out by her slow and cautious movements, and by the time she returned inside the rain had begun to fall again and she was slightly mussed but not too wet or too cold.

Next came the floors, the old oak boards had to be brushed and then scrubbed…a task made more difficult as Donny felt the need to trudge new mud through the house every few minutes. The shelves had to be dusted, the carpets vacuumed and a succulent roast had to be prepared and set to cook. The routine was monotonous for her, but she put her mind to it as well as she could so that she didn't begin to think of other things.

It was only when she was setting places at the dinner table that someone spoke to her again.

"We only need three places," her father said, "Now that your back your cousin Beth has gone home to look after her own father" Tara felt a stab of dismay as she heard those words, her father was distant, Donny was cruel. Beth had been the only chance of anyone decent still living in the Maclay household, perhaps the only decent conversation for Tara…now she was condemned to be truly isolated. In a twisted way it was what she had wanted, she didn't want to be around anyone she cared about, and now she really wasn't.

* * *

"I'm glad to see your settling in well" her father commented on the second night of her return as they sat down to a quiet meal. "Your family is glad to have you home Tara, and I know your glad to be back" she just gave him a distant smile which he took for agreement 

"Yeah." Donny said stiffly, in a clipped tone "Real. Glad. I'll show you just how much later" Tara took that to mean he wasn't going to give up his subtle abuse anytime soon. But as long as he didn't try to beat her again, she thought she would survive.

Though by her third day tedium was settling in on her, the Maclay farm was certainly no hell mouth. No demon attacks or spur of the moment Scooby meetings, who would have thought someone could actually miss being attacked by monsters every other night?

She put it down to adrenalin in the end, after living somewhere you had to be constantly on alert, constantly ready to 'spring into action'…of course she had done more springing into hiding then into action, but the idea was the same.

The routines of farm life were just tiring and boring, and she was beginning to worry that was as bad as having cut herself off from the ones she loved. The dreams were continuing to become more intense and she thought the tedious life she now had was making it worse as some part of her mind yearned for something a little more…exciting. She was beginning to find just how upsetting it could be when the world provided what she wanted…

With nothing else to distract her she couldn't help but dwell on dreams and her rising darkness. And it was rising, almost like an hourglass Tara could feel the grains of sand sliding through, the sand being the evil that was beginning to fill her…Sighing deeply Tara tried to brush off her dismal thoughts as she returned to her room and carefully lay across her bed in exhaustion. But after a few moments she dragged herself to a standing position and pulled her shoes off, she was almost accustomed to the pain that accompanied most of her actions.

But she was very glad that it was fading, if a little faster then it should have naturally…well no one like to be in pain. Pulling off her woollen top Tara turned so that her back was to the door so she could put the top neatly on her bedside table. It was coolish in her room and her chest stood naked without a top, her ribs and skin still too tender to consider a bra.

Gazing out the open window she thought that if she had felt a little more cheerful or could have moved a little more freely Tara might have gone to her open windows and bathed in the beautiful silvery light that hung like a veil across half of the room, a light that created a whimsical, almost enchanted sense in her… but any thought of that happening quickly vanished as a chill wind swept across her and with a shudder set her skin to prickling like goose bumps rode over her.

She smiled, almost coyly, as a casual wave and the smallest surge of magical energy resulted in the window closing itself.

"Naughty Naughty" the voice startled her and she jumped to her regret as pain tore through her side.

"D-donny" she stuttered, doing her best to cover her breasts with just her hands "W-what are you doing in h-here?"

"Just checking on my little sister," he said and a new chill washed down her spine that had nothing to do with physical cold. "Of course I didn't expect to find you looking like such a whore or using that _magic" _a disgusted tone hit his voice with the word magic. But that wasn't what concerned her; his eyes were casually sliding across her, almost leeringly. She was revolted as he didn't even try to hide what he was doing, he made her feel filthy…dirty…and her breath caught as she felt real terror looking at him.

Biting his lip he continued "You know I meant what I said yesterday little sister, I would be _real_ glad to show you how much it means to have you home"

She painfully swallowed a wave of vomit and held herself tighter as he advanced on her.

"I mean wouldn't it be nicer if we were a nice _happy _family…" he suggested "I could think of a lot of ways we could be a happy family little sister". He was right in front of her now and she was frozen with fear as he took her hands and painfully forced them down while pressing against her.

"I'm sorry for bein' so nasty before sis…let me make it up to you" he whispered, his hands clasping her waist and moving up to cup her breasts. Her mind had seemed to shut down, what was happening was just too unbelievable for her. Even if they weren't nice…a family wasn't meant to do something so disgusting.

A big brother was supposed to product his little sister, not molest her. Soft tears trickled down her cheeks as he squeezed her, getting the feel of her body. As far as her almost broken mind was concerned it was like a trail of filth on her, she felt slimy, disgusting, perverted as he tried to push her down over the bed.

The he whispered something that brought her back; her mind went into over drive and suddenly she was in control again. Not a terrified, helpless damsel. "And that whole lezzy thing is" _Willow…Lezzy, Lesbian, Willow! _For a brief moment her mind soared through time and space to find something warm an reassuring, for a brief instant Tara felt everything that Willow was encompass her and it gave her strength.

As that rush of Willow essence rode through her Tara shoved her perverted brother off her, he flew through the air and smashed against the opposite wall with a tremendous impact that caused her mirror to fall and shatter. With that power riding through her it was as if Tara felt every shard of that glass shatter, she felt the world burning bright around her in a way that she could have only ever imagined possible. It was what Willow felt every time she tapped into that torrent of power that eluded Tara…and it was absolutely intoxicating.

Before it could fade Tara felt Willow try to reach across the void that separated them…like Tara could feel all of the warmth and love that existed in Willow, so could Willow feel all of Tara's pain and anguish, the magic's rippled through her before she could completely shut her lover out and the magic's healed her broken body, though they could do nothing for her mind.

_Tara…_the word echoed across that void before she blocked Willow out. But the effort cost her, Tara collapsed against the bed, physically sapped of what little energy she had and her mind lapsed into a coma like sleep.

* * *

_Where am I? _Tara thought vaguely. _It was as if she stood in space itself, stars twinkled around her and vibrant, almost beautiful lights streaked by those stars._

"_**Here", **a voice echoed around her," **you are safe." **_

_Tara swirled to find the voice and it was like those beautiful colours twirled in her wake, an ankle length skirt shielding her from space as she turned to see…herself. But as she looked at what appeared to be herself Tara saw differences too._

_This Tara stood tall, a boldness running through her as she radiated confidence. Radiated an inner determination and strength that the real Tara didn't possess. But more then that, the new Tara looked like an Egyptian Queen. Dark black hair hung over her shoulders, a straight line of it hanging in a fringe._

_Her skin was sun kissed and dark shadings surrounded her eyes and trailed in a thick line to her temples. She also wore strange clothes; a garment part fabric and part links of gold only partially clothed her. And rippling across her hand was the same device that the Hathor of Tara's dreams had worn. _

_The greater portion of the other Tara's stomach and back were only covered by skin and the other Tara's clothes also showed a great deal of her legs. There was also a darkness emanating in that radiant confidence, a sense of secrets and hidden worlds._

"_I'm unconscious" Tara said hesitantly, "So, we're in my mind?"_

_Egyptian Tara nodded **"This is a…recess…of your mind, a place most people will never know exists in anything more then an intellectual way"**_

"This is where the dreams are coming from?" Tara guessed 

_The other nodded again **"What you consider dreams are really escaped memories"**_

"_Escaped memories" she repeated, after everything that had been happening to her recently she felt she had the right to be a little slow_

_Egyptian Tara's full red lips curved in a knowing way as she continued, **"The part of your mind where we currently exist is a place were most humans keep the most primitive of reflexes or knowledge which they pass on to their children"**_

Tara just blinked at her 

"_**Instincts might be a better word for it" **she explained, **"The instinctive fight or flight reflex in dangerous situations, or how a baby knows to hold their breath underwater"**_

"I think I'm starting to understand" 

"_**I know you are" **Egyptian Tara said confidently **"Now where most humans only have the most basic of instincts that have been learned over generations stored in this part of their mind. You my dear, have millennia of stored memories that have been genetically passed to you. Only recently has your mind begun to develop to the point where you might be able to understand, or at least comprehend these memories"**_

"_Does this happen to every female member of my family?" she asked and again the other Tara smiled in an all too knowing way._

"_**You're starting to catch on. Yes, these memories are what Maclay men so fondly refer to as the evil in Maclay woman"**_

"But they are evil" Tara said hesitantly "The-they drove my mother insane…" 

"_**Did they?" the other Tara asked**_

"What do you mean?" Tara responded quickly 

"_**Just think about what's happened to you since you returned 'home' Tara, you've been beaten, abused, subjugated and its been the same for every woman in your family"**_

"_You're saying that it's not this evil, or this um, genetic memories, that messed up my mum and are messing up me. Your saying it's the Maclay guys?" she asked_

_The Egyptian Tara placed a hand on her hip as she patiently made her point **"Maybe it's a bit of both…trying to deal with thousands of years of memories can be very difficult for the human mind to come to terms with. Perhaps the treatment the Maclay men give the women in your family just pushes you over the edge"**_

_In a way it made sense to Tara, if she could trust the Egyptian version of herself that was…but that wasn't something she wanted to try and think about right then. Whether or not to trust herself…_

_Trying to process the idea that it wasn't really evil inside of her she hedged and asked another question. "So if these memories have been escaping for a few months why am I here now?"_

_**Now it was the other Tara's turn to pause, to hesitate "Your not going to like the answer to that question"**_

"Answer it anyway" she said 

"_**Ok, but remember that you asked. You're here now because the past few weeks have culminated for you in an extreme psychological and emotional breakdown…your mind has literally refused to cope especially with your brothers sudden…interests" **_

_Tara shuddered at the mention of her brother, and suddenly a whole new batch of horrible thoughts hit her, and very uneasily she asked her next question "Wh-what's happening to me, my body I mean while I'm in here?"_

_The other Tara just looked at her_

"_Oh…"  
_

"I'm sorry" Egyptian Tara whispered 

"_So-so, who or ah what are you then?" She really didn't want to think about what her brother was doing to her._

"_**I'm a part of your sub-conscious mind which is sort of bridging you and the genetic memories. I think when your mind fractured you created me as an intermediary, to try and explain to your conscious mind what you already knew at the unconscious level. When you look at me you see and feel a sort of compromise between the person you are now, and who you might become if you were to completely integrate the memories," **she explained_

"Oh" Tara said again, "Um, assuming your not just a hallucination or some kind of demony trick why would I went to ah integrate all those memories, the dreams I've had so far haven't been very pleasant" 

_The other Tara shrugged **"Sooner or later the memories will emerge, this way you won't spend months or even years tormented by partial memories that slowly help to drive you insane"**_

_Tara was beginning to become resigned to the idea that, again if she hadn't already gone insane, she was going to have to deal with all of the genetic memories sooner or later. **"And maybe a thousand years of new memories might bury the last few weeks?" **Egyptian Tara said, echoing the real Tara's thoughts._

_She was slowly succumbing to the idea as a part of her own mind rationalised it to her. Evil. Insane. Or not? It was all inevitable either way from what she understood; she could try and accept the genetic memories, come to terms with them now, or let them slowly find their way to the surface on their own._

"_Wo-would they change me?"_

"_**We are but the sum of our experiences, so every event in our lives, every new experience or memory changes us in a way. They build to create the person we are from moment to moment"**_

"And your sure they're not, well, evil?" 

_The other Tara looked at her with amusement, like you might look at a child who had asked why the sky was blue and not red._

"They're just memories, how can a memory be good or evil? Like everything its how a person chooses to use them that defines what they are" It vaguely occurred to Tara that it sounded like the other Tara was almost trying to convince her, but maybe she was just being paranoid. She had really just reached her limit on what she could handle, good or evil the memories seemed to be a part of her and they had already been torturing her for months, she could let them continue like that or just take everything they could throw at her in one blow. And at that particular moment in time that seemed like a perfectly reasonable idea. Hell she had apparently already suffered a complete breakdown, what was a little more insanity added to the mix? 

"_How?" she asked, she didn't need to say anything more; after all she was technically speaking to herself._

_Egyptian Tara smiled with a radiant satisfaction that seemed to spread, a good humour that enveloped normal Tara. **"Just breathe," **she instructed. _

_The Egyptian version of Tara reached out to touch normal Tara as her body began to dissolve into a pure energy, tendrils of black and white light mixed like the day and the night as in a rush that energy ploughed directly into Tara. She gasped as it suffused her and pinpricks of light rushed through her vision, overwhelmingly intense as millennia upon millennia of memories and knowledge tore through her._

_The pain was like nothing Tara had ever felt before, it hurt but in a good way like the pain of a tightly wound bandage being removed. Her senses exulted in the overload of new information, for a time she feared that it was more then she could handle, more then she could possibly survive. But that feeling abated and suddenly the universe both shrank and expanded exponentially._

_At a conscious and subconscious level mysteries of science and technology were unravelled before her very eyes, but for every scrap of knowledge gleaned a thousand new question emerged. Even as it rode over her like a tidal wave Tara couldn't help but think that Willow would have given her right arm to experience such a vast intelligence, to have learned so much._

_The insignificance of her single lifetime was washed away before such a vastness, but even with her every sense riveted to the wondrous answers to so many questions, to the countless worlds of a thousand solar systems Tara felt the distinct bile like taste of something more insidious, something darker lurking in that sweet array…but she just couldn't bring herself to care…_

* * *

Far away in her bed a lovely red headed girl started awake as she felt a chasm, a rift where her world had been. And she began to cry. 


	5. Painful Returns

A/N: Crossover will begin soon

* * *

Tara came back to her body like a welcome settler, or a ghost in possession. But it was a tight fit, like she was no longer the person she had been when she had collapsed…but then neither was her body. Even as the dull numbness across her broke as she first began to reconnect with her senses she could feel that a great deal was wrong.

Pain stabbed through her and she ached in all the wrong places, eyes still shut she slowly ran her hands down her body and felt the dry crusted blood, she winced at the tender spots and wanted to cry as she felt her torn pants and the still sluggish fluid oozing from between her legs.

A mixture of blood and other things, flickering her eyelids she managed to get one eye to open but felt the stinging of more bruises at her other eye…while fervently hoping that it was only crusted blood that kept her from opening that eye.

Struggling she managed to sit up and found she had been lying over her bed, the beautiful sheets stained with her blood and that more then her own body made her want to cry again. Irrational, but then maybe her mind hadn't caught up to the reality.

Or maybe it had? She knew what had happened to her, but she felt strangely calm, like she sat in the eye of the storm, a tempest raging around her that she would eventually be sucked into, but for the moment she was strangely insulated, even safe.

Sighing she did the most practical thing she could, painfully and agonisingly slowly she stripped off her torn and bloodied pants and put on some light yellowy brown cargoes and a loose, quite large red and white Hawaiian shirt, she vaguely wondered when she had added that to her wardrobe and really couldn't come up with answer. And then she left.

It wasn't as simple as that of course, she was bruised, bloodied and could barely walk but she also knew she couldn't stay in the Maclay house any longer. Her father was distant and truly didn't have any way to stop her 'evil'…but then if the dream voice had been right she only had memories inside of her, not evil…not that it mattered since in her fragile state she had fully accepted them. Even now she could almost sense them, just at the corner of her mind waiting for some kind of trigger.

Her brother was also another very good reason to leave; she would not endure that abuse _ever_ again. And there was a cold part of her, something from those icy depths that knew he would die if he tried again, and it would not be pretty.

Tara called a cab and carefully made her way to front of the farm houses drive, her father never noticed, working out back and she had no idea what had happened to Donny…she hoped not to see him again but some part of her knew that wasn't likely. And sure enough there he was, picketed a fence and she was walking almost straight towards him.

"Morning sis'" he said quite cheerfully, a broad smile wrapping itself around his sweaty face "Have a good _sleep_?"

She just looked back at him, her face a blank with no emotion seeping through, wondering if anger or rage, or maybe even just panic would set it.

"Oh come on, your not upset about last night are ya? I had a good time, and we're more like family now…if I was a bit rough I'm sorry, I'll try to be a little gentler next time" That did it, the _next time _remark, a cold rage spread through her and burning anger settled into her eyes. He didn't even have the vaguest concept that what he did had been wrong.

"There, I apologised" he announced, like it made everything better "Now if you go back up to the house I'll be in later and we can" he tried to reach for her then and she slapped him, hard. Two years on a hell mouth and she had learned to put her entire body into a swing. He was physically wrenched around and her hand burned with the stinging.

"You fucking bitch!" He roared. Moving by some ingrained instinct she raised an arm to block and felt his back fist plough straight through her meagre defence and send her smacking into the ground. She remembered being stronger the last time she was in a fistfight…_but it's not my memory is it? _Tara thought, _it's one of those new ones…_

She saw his foot rise and was too slow to try anything else; too physically weak to try magic…not that she could think of anything on the spur of the moment that could help her…

"What the hell are doing?" A voice rang out and both Tara and Donny looked towards it in surprise. And there, not ten feet away was the beautiful yellow and white of a cab. Tara almost cried in relief as a large man with a potbelly struggled out of the car, muscle with a few layers of fat rippled as the guy approached the startled Donny.

A menacing gleam surged across the guys face as he strutted forward. "I know I don't look like much now boy, but I had a pretty mean right hook back in my football days and an even nastier tackle" he warned in a low voice

Weighing up his odds Donny gave Tara a strangled look, like he was choking on rage "This ain't over sis" he hissed, "I'll find you, you little bitch" Then he took off running, fast.

"Geez, he really did a number on you kid," the guy said with concern. "You want me to chase him down? I mean I got daughters your age, say the word and I'll beat the boy into the ground" Tara just shook her head as the man helped her to her feet.

"Names Al by the way, I assume you called for the cab?" She just nodded "Thought so, not that I wouldn't have stopped anyway" he added. "So where can I take you, hospital, police station?" he asked

"N-n-no thank you," she said quietly "A motel please"

"Kid, you sure about that? You're not really in any shape to be on your own at the moment, and you gotta report that guy"

"I-I'm sure" she stuttered, "I-I have fr-friends I can call," she lied. Even if Egyptian Tara wasn't lying to her she didn't want anyone to see her the way she was…she just wanted to figure out her life and maybe reconcile those memories with her conscious mind…see how much they changed her before she could even think of seeing Willow again. "Please sir I really just want to get cl-cleaned up"

He nodded thoughtfully as he climbed in "There's a decent hotel a town over, but I really don't feel good about leaving you on your own" he gave her injuries an angry look and she wondered how bad she looked, the mirror in her own room had been shattered and she hadn't really felt like finding another.

"I'll be ok," she promised.

After that he had settled down to drive and didn't ask her anything else, a good hour later they pulled up outside of a motel and as she reached for her purse, thankful she had at least remembered to take that with her, he shook his head. "No ma'am this one is on me, I really don't feel good about leavin' you now" he muttered "but you seem coherent enough, if ya change your mind about the police or hospital call the company and ask for Al. I'll come an get you as soon as I can, free of charge"

Tara was touch by his offer and smiled sweetly at Al as she carefully climbed out of the cab "My names Tara…and thank you" she said

* * *

Tara submersed herself in the flow of the hot water as it lanced across her body and carried away the blood and pain. Once again she found solace in water as it soothed her injuries as she cleaned herself up. Stepping out of the shower and into a steaming motel bathroom and wiped down the mirror.

Her appearance was haggard to say the least, aside from her new array of purple and black bruises her eye was still swollen shut and both eyes were sunken back with dark rings under them.

She also seemed very pale.

_If I'm going to keep-letting people beat me like this I really should try and find a healing device _she thought, then she thought, _a healing device?_

Almost unconsciously she found a pad and pen by the motel rooms phone and quickly began to sketch, the end result was magnificent to say the least. She usually had no real talent for drawing, but she had been able to so vividly picture the image it just seemed to flow out of her.

Tara had drawn a golden ring that wrapped around a women's slender hand, and on the palm side there was a large reddish orange oval. _And that's a healing device _she thought, _technology developed by the Goa'uld._

_What's a goa'uld? _Again the answer just seemed to flow into her mind. A parasitic alien race that took control of a host body. _Alien? _She was starting to give herself a headache as each answer spawned a new question, or thoughts just randomly began to cross her mind.

For instance she knew that even if she had a '_healing device' _it would be useless as she needed naquedah in her bloodstream to use it, and what was naquedah? Some kind of alien mineral that was the basis of most of the Goa'uld technology.

"Oh goddess" she breathed, _what had she gotten herself into?_

* * *

"It's been a week Xander! She hasn't called or written or anything!" Willow screamed

"Look, Will, you read the note, now I'm not saying it's a good thing but she said she wasn't coming back, that kind of implies she doesn't mean to call as well" Xander responded in his usual fashion, it wasn't the first time he was having the same conversation with Willow.

"But you didn't feel it" she cried "She was in soo much pain, and she was so scared Xander, she was terrified of what was happening to. And no!" she cut off his next question "I don't know what it was, I just felt it, and she was hurt so badly"

"And no! I don't know where she was either," she was sobbing again

Gently hugging Willow he tried to soothe her with calming noises and reassurances "Shh, it's over now, whatever was happening is long over and Tara survived. She's a strong girl"

"We have to find her…" Willow whispered

"I know" he said "But she disappeared Will, she left and found someway to hide from your magic, she doesn't want us to find her"

"And?" Willow demanded, "When does that ever stop us?"

"Fine, fine. I'm with you, Tara, Find, We must. But where would we start, we have no idea where she might have gone. The only idea we've come up with is her family and that's such a long shot at best and we don't even know where they are"

He felt her tense then as she pulled out of his hug

"I…found her dad" she confessed "And he's only a couple of states away…please Xander I know it's a long shot, and we'll probably just get there and get all upset and she won't be there, but I have to, I _need _to try…and I need you to come with me"

He smiled at her, she was one of his best friends and maybe he could be moral support for her, but he was also one of the few Scooby's with a car. And with the nerd trio messing with Buffy Giles needed to stay with her.

If he didn't go with her, she'd find another way, and he was more then a little afraid she'd try magic, not that hitch hiking or bussing it wouldn't be dangerous as well. Maybe not as dangerous as a hell mouth, but still not a fun trip

With a deep sigh he resigned himself and said, "Ok then, pack your bags,"

* * *

A/N: Eerie voice and chains Review...review...review...tell me how much you hate it and what a piece of Sh the story is, but please say something.


	6. Life Sucks

Two Weeks After Tara's flight from Sunnydale

**Two Weeks After Tara's flight from Sunnydale.**

"Tough break about the car man" Xander's drifting thoughts were brought back to reality as the taxi driver addressed him.

"Oh, yeah, I guess" he mumbled, truth was he didn't really want to think about it. He and Willow had stopped off in a motel for the night a couple of towns from the address Willow had found for the Maclays. He almost smiled as he remembered how she had argued about stopping when they were so close, but since she had been on edge and existing purely on caffeine for the last forty-eight hours she had drifted off before she could convince him to go on.

Aside from that he himself was a bit of a wreck, driving cross country with a desperate and heart broken witch would grind on anyone's nerves, add in the very little sleep and the fact she hadn't really given them a chance to stop for a good meal in four days and he was pushing the boundaries of how much he could take.

When they got back on the road the next day his car decided it had enough itself, with in two hours it blew out three tires on a particular nasty patch of road, and had ground itself to a halt with a steaming engine and two broken headlights from where it had ploughed into the dirt when the tires went.

Xander mentally winced at the price the garage guys had said it was going to cost to fix his baby up. _Why do I have to be such a softie, _he wondered, _why couldn't I have just let Willow find her own way?_

The answers to both questions were too obvious for his sub conscious to even taunt him with a reply so he focused on glaring out the window.

"You know its, ah, probably a good thing you left the red head back in the town" the driver said, attempting to make conversation again.

Xander did smile at that as he rubbed the slowly growing bristles under his chin, leaving Willow back in the town had been more a matter of waiting until she went to the ladies room and then racing off to find a taxi, the driver had only seen her when she chased after the taxi screaming at him to stop. If **his** nerves had been frayed recently, hers had been torn all to hell, and finding the Maclay farmstead had just added another confliction to her already filled mind.

He could see every time he looked at her that she was both excited by the prospect that she had a place to look for Tara, and terrified because if she hadn't gone to her 'family' then they really had no other ideas where she might have gone. He'd decided to go up to the farm himself first, in Willow's state she would probably have over reacted the moment she got to the Maclay Farm if Tara wasn't there, this way he could ease her into the idea a little more…

…Ok so he was kidding himself, he knew the chance was slim to none that Tara would have gone to her father, even after having just met him that once, and he really didn't want Willow to be around people that she might potentially lash out at, and did the rest of the Maclays definitely fall into that category, oh yeah. He felt he was in a better position then the Maclays to break the news to Willow that Tara wasn't there, and to come out of it alive, especially if Tara's father was the same arrogant man he had been two years ago.

"Why's that a good thing?" Xander asked the driver, slightly curious as to his comment.

He then watched the driver shift uncomfortably for a moment, "Er, I ah, probably shouldn't have said anything"; nervously glancing at Xander's stoic expression he swallowed and murmured. "Er, your not family of the Maclays are you, or er, good friends with them?"

Xander just shook his head.

"Well, you see the thing is the last girl who went up didn't come out in great shape, she was ah bleeding and pretty beat up when I collected her"

Ice chilled his veins and a cold shiver ran across his spine as he shifted to give the driver his complete and undivided attention. "This girl" he asked, "she wouldn't have been blonde by any chance, about 5'3, 5'4, goes by the name of-"

"-Tara" the driver chimed in. Utter horror washed over him, _dear god or would that be dear goddess? Either way, thank you for making me leave Willow behind…_if she had heard that he couldn't imagine what she would have done.

"Your a, ah friend of hers?" the driver enquired

"Yes" he replied grimly "And I don't take too kindly to people hurting her" a certain level of menace emanating from his voice that caused the taxi driver to flinch. "You said you picked her up, where did you take her?"

"Chesters, it erm, two towns over" he replied nervously "That was about four, or five days ago now, I-I could take you there" he offered

"No thank you" Xander declined with a veil of politeness, "I think I owe her family a visit first"

When Xander disembarked from the taxi there was no resemblance to the goofy, almost boyishly cheerful if slightly tired out young man that had first gotten in. He walked with an air of stiffness and a look that could chill a man's heart with its promise of pain and darkness. He may not have been close friends with Tara, but she was family, part of a family he was more then willing to be a part of and nobody messed with his family.

Tara stared over the artefacts with a kind of reverence, ever so gently running her hand against the glass as she took in the display of yellow and orange that surrounded her. She could feel the pulsating energy ebbing from the artefact before her. A block of seemingly solid yellow stone, gilded in gold and covered in what could barely be described as a scrawl but was in fact a worn down goa'uld dialect, several dialects to be more precise, not all of which made sense to her.

Either because they were something completely random that did not actually make sense, or the dialects had come about after her ancestors family line was born and the repository of memories began to be passed down.

"Excuse me miss, but museum patrons are not allowed to touch the exhibits or their casing" A young man stated in what she supposed was meant to be a stern voice.

She smiled sweetly at the man as she stepped back from the case and over the red rope, "Sorry sir, I just got caught up in the moment, it won't happen again"

"See that it doesn't" he said, again in his imitation of stern, before he walked off. For a brief moment when he had disturbed her she had felt a spike of anger surge through her at his insolence, fighting back that instinctive urge had resulted in a skull splitting headache, which she had not particularly desired.

Rubbing her head in pain Tara was about to walk away to examine some of the other 'Egyptian artefacts' that this particular museum had on display when a slightly older man stopped her.

"They are fascinating aren't they?" he asked with such a blend of curiosity and awe in his tone that rather then ignoring him she turned back to face him. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to pry, I just find that ancient Egypt was quite interesting and I overheard what you said to the security guard about getting caught up in the moment. I often do myself when I'm here or examining some, erm, trinket or other"

A part of her instantly labelled him as a geek, but the purely Tara part of her found his fascination to be…endearing…a little like Mr. Giles when he got started with his books or research. Taking a step back for a moment she looked him over, he was taller then her, but then a great many people were. And he wore cute little glasses and had short brown hair, she could also see a sort of awareness to him, more then the others that walked passed the two of them.

He was both aware of himself and of who he was, and it radiated out from him with a frightful intensity.

After another moment she offered her hand "I'm Tara, Tara Maclay"

"Daniel Jackson" he said, his hand was warm and calloused and oddly familiar.

"So it's the middle of the day Mr Jackson, what do you do that allows you the freedom to spend time in a place like this?" she enquired

"Please, call me Daniel" he responded, "I'm an archaeologist, I specialise in ancient cultures and right at the moment these artefacts are what I do. I'm assisting the museum with cataloguing a number of backlogged shipments" what he wasn't saying was that he was assisting in order to remove a number of goa'uld items which had been uncovered with a number of genuine Egyptian artefacts. It was quite a mess.

Still holding his hand she smiled coyly and she turned him to face the exhibit which had so strongly held her attention before. "Well Daniel" carefully drawing out his name in an innocent way "since you're an archaeologist and all, what does this say?" she asked, pointing towards one side of the block.

She felt him grimace as he looked over the goa'uld artefact, he had actually been on his way up to have it removed so he could examine it more closely when he had met the girl.

"Oh, umm, its ah, just a pretty standard passage concerning the after life, it was probably used to house Canopic jars at some point in time."

Tara felt his unease as he lied through the flickering of his pulse; she also saw out of the corner of her retina his eyes flicking to either side in a classic human movement when they lied. She was also scornful that he had made his falsehood so unbelievable, even an amateur could tell that at least five dialects where used across a single passage, what funeral story would require that? _Or at least an amateur with the genetic knowledge of the goa'uld would know, _that thought caused her lips to curve into a genuine smile of amusement.

"Did I say something funny?" Dr Jackson asked.

She couldn't help but let a laugh slip, filled with a dangerous arrogance as she stated, "I've been coming here for three days now. And I've heard a number of curators and archaeology student's opinions on this particular artefact, and I believe you're the first to mention funerary passages".

"Ah" he exclaimed as blood rose to his cheeks

She felt like he knew more then he was saying, that maybe he could actually read the artefact, as far as both she and the goa'uld memories knew no one on Earth should be able to read any dialect of Goa'uld. Not after so long in any case.

So if he actually could read it, which would be the only reason she could think of for him to lie about what it said, then he possessed a knowledge of the Goa'uld and could perhaps provide her some insight as to the state of affairs in the galaxy…even as those thoughts flittered through her mind Tara felt disconcerted by them, why did it matter whether Daniel Jackson knew about the Goa'uld?

But the memories within her held an almost tangible force of will with them and they wanted to know more.

It was then that she spotted the large dark skinned man across the room, clad in very human, very civilian type clothing, but none of that did anything to hide the fact that everything about him screamed, danger, soldier. She had seen many people that radiated that kind of aura, but staring at him as she was, she could see the slightest glint of gold reflecting off the light from beneath his cap, and it sent a shiver of fear through her.

Even with all the new knowledge and memories surging inside of her, she was still a large part the girl she use to be and that girl knew when to back away. She also knew that despite the influence the new memories were having on her actions, she didn't quite have the abilities that the goa'uld who the memories originated from did.

Specifically she knew she didn't have the naquedah in her blood that would have confirmed if the hulking figure in the corner was truly a jaffa or not.

Daniel followed Tara's distracted eyes to Teal'c and suddenly it was him who was becoming nervous, as the young girl seemed to have isolated the jaffa out of everyone in the considerably sized room.

With both of them looking at him Teal'c began to move towards his friend and the stranger.

Innocent or not Tara didn't like the idea that he was approaching, an irrational fear that he would somehow sense something was different about her despite the fact that she carried no symbiote, nor the markers of one. Her mind was waging war with itself as the fear manifested from what her new memories told her of the Jaffa and the relationships between the numerous Goa'uld in the galaxy.

"T-ah, Murray, this is Tara Maclay" Dr Jackson said as the Jaffa reached them, "Tara this is a good friend of mine, Murray". Thankfully the jaffa merely nodded its head towards her rather then offer his hand.

As he looked at her Tara watched the slightest widening of Murray's eyes, the smallest shift in his stance that suggested discomfit and the nerves that had began to fray snapped. She moved with an almost lightning speed to shove Daniel into the jaffa, who grunted in surprise at the sudden push and fell heavily into the jaffa, his flailing arm casually knocking his hat enough to reveal the golden sign of Apophis.

The cold chill tore through her as she turned to run and collided with the same security guard from before, the force of her impact sent both of them careening into one of the exhibits. Shattering the glass they also scattered a range of small genuine Egyptian artefacts across the floor as they thumped heavily against the ground, the security guards body had crashed across hers.

And unfortunately for Tara the security guard weighed a good hundred and fifty or more pounds then her and due to his limp form, she was effectively pinned down.

"This is really not my day," she groaned, slumping against the floor as her skull-splitting headache returned and the hulking Jaffa appeared over her.

With a light pitter-patter of rain cascading down over Xander he approached the Maclay farmstead, cold fury radiated off of him. But to the world at large he projected a disarmingly simple smile and favourable disposition.

Even across mud and gravel he moved almost silently, years of playing the sidekick to Buffy had taught him how to remain unnoticed, to move quietly. The big bads were less likely to rip you arms off and beat you to death with them if they didn't notice you were there.

But this time he wanted the element of surprise, he wanted to remain unnoticed for an entirely new reason as he approached the oblivious twenty something year old Donny.

"Hey" he called out when he was less then a foot from the youngest male of the Maclay family, and to Xander's satisfaction Donny jumped and yelped slightly as he pivoted to face his surpriser.

"What the fuck" Donny breathed out giving Xander a quick once over with his eyes, apparently not being in tune enough to sense the malevolence directed towards him.

Donny squinted a little and looked back at Xander with a faint sign of recognition, "Have we met before?"

"Maybe in your next life time" Xander replied smoothly and before the Maclay boy could make sense of what he had said he continued, "I'm looking for Tara"

And with the mention of one simple name Donny's entire attitude changed, at first he had been surprised, but not overtly hostile. He appeared for all intensive purposes to be a simple farm boy, but at his sisters name his posture shifted into something more aggressive and he glowered at the taller boy.

"Look I don't know what that little bitch has been saying but I didn't lay a fucking hand on her" he practically spit. And his adamant denial was all the confirmation Xander had needed; he didn't even want to begin to imagine what Donny had done to his own sister.

And he was only vaguely paying attention to the continued denials of anything having happened, but he caught enough of it to understand and to read through the lines to what Donny had really done and it made him sick to his stomach.

Xander wasn't a fighter, he didn't like to hurt people, he didn't even like to hurt the monsters but he had been raised on the hellmouth and for the last seven years of his life he had pitted himself against the darkest forces evil could throw against him…or against the slayer as he watched and chipped in where he could.

In those seven years he'd found himself hammered into becoming the adult he now was, the outside chipped away by a never-ending war against darkness until all that was left was the core of himself. The person he was meant to be, only hardened a thousand fold.

A person capable of extraordinary violence if necessary, and where his family was concerned it was necessary. And where Donny was concerned, it was past necessary.

"Why?" he asked quietly, breaking the Maclays rant about what he _hadn't _done. "You have a soul" he said just as softly, "So you don't have any excuse there"

"Did your father beat you? Abuse you?" Donny just looked at him repulsed at the suggestion

And Xander sighed, a soft sigh of resolution as the menacing fury washed away from him with the light rain that drizzled down over him. Donny was too simple, too pathetic for Xander to waste his fury on.

Not that it mattered, as the Maclay continued to rant Xander sucker punched him, a fast hard jab to the stomach which took Donny by surprise. Before he could recover Xander pivoted in the mud to bring the full force of his body into a concentrated fist that smashed its way across the bastards face. A heartily satisfying snap and spurt of blood accompanied the motion.

Donny may have been a brute and had no difficulties beating up women half his size, but against the brutal and efficient onslaught by Xander, he was helpless. And as he lay broken and bleeding, slightly sunken into the mud, his eyes glazed over in pain as he whimpered. Xander whispered a single word, a name.

As he did so the air took on a faint charge as a small wave of ash and dust were displaced in the arrival of a new woman.

A woman clad in an expensive almost business like suit with a small green pendent hanging at her throat. Her face was distorted by discolouration and veins while her eyes were filled with distaste.

"On behalf of the aggrieved party, the woman scorned I summon thee Anyanka"

Despite the breach in protocol, both in being summoned by a man and someone daring to make a wish of vengeance in another's name Xander's ex fiancé spoke only a single word in return "Proceed". As a demonic patron of women Anyanka could feel the remnants of pain that had been caused, she could feel the agony of Tara seething through the air, and after all Tara had been somewhat of a friend to her as well. Halfrek had told her she should expand her clientele, it seemed as good a time as any to start.

Not to mention her curiosity was growing in leaps and bounds as she watched emotions and ideas flit across Xander's face, he'd summoned her for vengeance and vengeance was an ugly business. How far would he go, what depths of creativity could he find.

After what seemed to be an eternity Xander finally spoke, though his eyes never left Donny's, and there was something in his tone which Anya was hard pressed to place, regret perhaps, a deep, painful regret for what he was about to do. "In your eleven hundred years of delivering vengeance, how many wishes have you granted? I mean if you only granted 10 wishes a year that still numbers in the tens of thousands"

Anya couldn't quite see where he was going, but then that was often a problem for her when it came to humans.

He breathed out again in a sigh of resignation as Anyanka simply stood and waited.

"I wish for this bastard to endure the fate of every mortal man you have ever wielded the power of the wish against" Anya's heart almost stopped then, she knew Xander, knew what it cost him to simply summon her knowing what the rest of his friends would think on learning that he had cast vengeance against a human, vengeance designed to hurt, to kill. No matter how foul or evil a person, the slayer and those associated with her did not, ever, kill a normal human being. She couldn't imagine what they would do if they learned what Xander had just wished. She also knew just what kind of devastation this would wreak on him and she also knew why he was doing it.

More then just to punish a wicked, vile creature. He was doing it because he loved Willow, she was his best friend in the world, and if he didn't remove Donny from the face of earth then eventually Willow would. She'd learn what the bastard had done and she'd take vengeance herself, and it would kill her to do so, it would destroy her in such a way that she would never recover.

Xander was choosing to take that pain himself, to take that kind of damage onto his own soul so that he could spare her. It reminded her of why she had loved him in the first place, more then that it brought back a raging inferno of love for the stupid human, an inferno that brought tears to her eyes.

"Xander…" She whispered, but he cut her off

"I said that I wish for him to experience the pain of every wish you have ever granted, one by one for the rest of eternity"

"Xander you don't have-" But he cut her off again

"I've made my wish"

And despite how much she didn't want to do it Anyanka could feel the universe pulling against her will, she had acknowledged him and he had wished, she now had no choice but to grant that wish. Even as she fought against it she felt the power being wrenched from her and cast out into Donny as he vanished in a wisp of flame, carried to his very own hell dimension where he would experience eleven hundred years of the most horrific and painful things thousands of woman could conceive of throughout the ages.

The energy drawn from her for that wish was particularly weakening and as she whispered the time honoured word of completion she truly began to cry

"Done…"

She could already feel the chasm growing inside of her former lover, she could feel his anguish, his despair as he sunk to his knees and gasped out pained, agonised sobs for what he had done, all she could do to ease his pain was fold herself down around him and allow her arms to envelop him as his body heaved with the force of his tears.


End file.
